


Les Ailes de la Liberté

by artisanAdoration



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Lots of feathers, M/M, Nightmares, Runawaystuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2596967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artisanAdoration/pseuds/artisanAdoration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Now spread your wings, Avian! Spread your wings and fly!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and Comments appreciated<3

“Come one! Come all!” The ticket master announced into the night air as families filled the giant red and white tent behind him. “See the creatures from your wildest dreams!” A young man stands by his father’s white Buick, and today just so happens to be his birthday. He held a small leather sketchbook in his hand with “J.E” inscribed on the cover. His father stood next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder before following the crowd to the ticket line, a sickness pitting in the boy’s stomach. Performers danced all around him, jugglers, contortionists, and magicians alike. They looked happy to get all the attention the incoming crowd was giving them. A little too happy.. The two men purchased their tickets and found a seat along the back row of the circular stands, a brightly lit ring in the center of the tent.

“Dad, I want to go home,” the boy whispered just as the lights were dimmed, leaving only a single spotlight in the middle of the ring.

“Oh hush, John,” the man replied flatly, his attention drawn to the ring master approaching the spotlight. “All you do is sit in your room and draw. It’s about time that I give you a sense of culture.”

“But these kind of shows are completely unethical and not to mention demeaning for the—“ He was cut off by a soothing voice over the microphone, sighing and turning his attention to the center ring.

The ringmaster was wearing a solid white suit, accompanied by a bright green undershirt and a cape draped over his shoulders. Platinum blonde hair was gelled back neatly and a long cane was planted in his right hand, microphone in the other.

“Good evening, ladies and gentleman,” he purred a smile on his lips as he began pacing the outside of the ring, the light following. “My name is Scratch, and I’ll be your host. Tonight, we will be displaying the strange, the unusual, and the terrifying offspring of Mother Nature.”

“Dad, I _really_ don’t want to be here,” John hissed, squeezing the book in his hand tightly, only to be answered with a lazy wave of his father’s hand. A young woman with long raven hair approached the ring as the lights brightened, the entire ring lit now. A long lime green dress trailed behind her, a black scarf tied around her waist. A top hat rested on her head, bright green eyes glistening behind rounded glasses with a slender hand waving to the crowd.

“Now, for our first display, I would like to introduce you to my friend Jade. She’s quite the looker, isn’t she?” A few whistles filled the air, Jade blushing and grinning, wrapping a hand around her waist. She subtly unhooked something, the long skirt and scarf falling to the ground. Underneath, the green dress stopped above the knee, solid white dog legs and a tail replacing legs. She then took off her hat, revealing two fluffy white ears, twitching at every gasp that came from the crowd.

“Yes, such a fine specimen,” Scratch chuckled as she did a little spin. “But don’t get too caught up in her looks. She has quite a bite.” Suddenly, a man came running down to the ring, ready to strike. Jade turned and laid her ears flat against her head, her lips curled back into a snarl. Just as  the man threw a punch at her, she thrust her shoulder into his stomach, using her legs to propel him into the air and over her other shoulder, slamming a paw on his chest and holding him down. She let out a long stream of growls as the crowd erupted into cheers. When she was pulled away, she returned to her normal stature, bowing and picking up her skirt before absconding to the curtain she and the man entered from.

“Good show, good show,” the ringmaster smiled, giving her slow clap as a man with shoulder length brunette hair and square sunglasses riding a brilliant black Clydesdale came trotting up, performing an equine routine, flipping and swinging on the horse’s back as it ran. His muscles flexed visibly underneath tanned skin, decorated with scars and gold bands on his wrists. An arrow with a dash through the middle was painted in blue on his shoulders, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. He swung around the horse’s neck before standing straight up on his back, holding his arms up as his act came to a close, the crowd clapping. The horse slowed to a stop and he jumped down, immediately going into a bow.

“This is Equius,” Scratch hummed, the man standing up. He towered over the man in charge, looking like he could snap him like a twig. “As you can see, he’s quite remarkable in the equestrian arts. But he also is quite an exquisite archer. He pulled out a whistle and blew, but nothing came out as he blew. ‘ _A dog whistle?’_

“Dad! You don’t this he’s going to shoot an animal do y—“

“Hush, John!” The boy crossed his arm and couldn’t help the sick feeling in the bottom of his stomach, hearing a soft clicking noise, a thin boy coming out. His right arm was bandaged and a muzzle was over his mouth as well as a grey paperboy hat on top of messy black hair.  He stepped tentatively, as if he were afraid to step into the ring.

‘ _There’s that green light again_ ,’ John thought as he watched the boy jumped a little bit before making his way in front of a target.

“This is Karkat. He’s pretty much the closest thing to a son I have,” the man purred as Equius brought out a large bow and pulled an arrow from a quiver resting on the side of the ring. “I found him struggling his life in the outskirts of town, beaten, starving.. It would make grown men weep. But I took him in, raised him to be a star.”

‘ _Raised him to be a slave, more like_ ,’ John thought distastefully. The man pulled back on the arrow and aimed it straight at Karkat’s head, the clicking erupting from the boy’s throat again as he stared, wincing when the bow let out a groan.

“Ready.”

‘ _No, no! He couldn’t!’_

“Aim.”

_‘Don’t—!’_

“Fire!” John shut his eyes at the whistling of the arrow, letting out a soft whimper. Just seconds before the arrow sunk into the boy’s skull, his eyes widened and the bandages tore apart, revealing a large crustacean claw, the pincer snapping down on middle of the arrow. The wood splintered and broke in half, the boy calming down and laying his hands down as his side. The crowd went through yet another round of applause, John opening his eyes and sighing with relief.

“Oh thank god,” he sighed aloud, rubbing his temples. Throughout the night, they had a multitude of other acts, including two contortionists (who doubled as lion tamers), a few clowns with no sense of pain or humor for that matter, and before long, John had given up on watching, simply flipping through his sketch book to pass them time. But soon everything was pitch black, besides the entrance flap of the tent, the sound of wheels filling the air. This was something large. Scratch’s voice filled the air, the spot light on him.

“For centuries, our ancestors passed down stories of the great Avian race, but as far as we knew, they were simply fantastic urban legends. But now—“ The lights flashed on, revealing a large, cloth covered cage. “—We know they truly exist!” He grabbed the corner of the curtain and pulled dramatically. As the cloth fluttered to the ground, John and the audience both gasped as the caged creature was revealed. A man, lean and tall, stood in the cage, a red decorated bird skull mask covering his bowed face. He wore a tight black wife-beater and greyish shorts, crow’s feet tapping nervously on the cage floor as the crowed murmured in awe. Black wings were folded against his back, silver chains binding each clawed limb. John could make out the freckles that littered his shoulders, like tiny galaxies on his skin.

“Yes! He is the only Avian in existence!” the man boasted as the top of the cage was lifted up and suspended in the air. “Now spread your wings, Avian! Spread your wings and fly!” When the man made no effort to move, an angry look washed over Scratch’s face. He raised his hand up toward him and growled.

“I said _FLY!_ ” A bright green light flashed and the Avian winced, slowly stretching out his wings. He flapped a few times to stretch them out before slow ascending into the air, the crowd roaring. The chins around his wrists and ankles kept him from going up too far, just enough to bask in the applause.

“Thank you! Thank you!” the ringmaster yelled as the man came down, shrinking back into his original position. “You’ve been a wonderful audience! Please, do come back to visit us, but be wary on your way home tonight.” He raised his hands and all the lights cut out, leaving them in sudden darkness. “You never know what creatures are lurking in the shadows.” He laughed darkly as the lights came on, any trace that the people had ever been there vanished, the people clapping and making their leave.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” John muttered as he promptly left the tent, not even looking back as his father called his name. As he passed the front gate, a woman grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side, a sly smirk on her face. She was in a yellow and orange fortune teller’s outfit, an orange hot covering her eyes.

“Who ar—“ He was cut off with a finger to her lips.

“John, you must listen to me,” she hummed, all other noises around them disappearing. “The wings off freedom have been maimed, but you can help mend the wound. It is your destiny.”

“Are you crazy?” he gasped, trying to figure this woman out. “I have no ide—“

“You will find out soon enough,” she interrupted once more, smiling and running her hand along his cheek before giving it a quick pat. “I believe in you.” With that she vanished among the crowd, leaving the boy speechless. ‘ _Destiny? Wings of Freedom? What is she talking about?’_

Before he could ponder anymore, he found his father looking for him in a clearing a little ways out from the tent’s entrance, jogging over and the two walking back to the car.

“Now ,that wasn’t so bad, now was it, John?” he chuckled as they slipped into the car, his son digging his teeth in his lip.

“Mmn,” was John’s reply, taking his glasses off and wiping them down with a small cleaning cloth. There were multiple questions racing through his mind, but one stood out in particular with no explanation: _He had to see that Avian again._


	2. Black feathers and Ruby Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you guys go! Another chapter of introductions. ((PS- I forgot how fun Karkat was))

John visited the circus on multiple occasions, often slipping out his bedroom window after his father had retired to his bedroom, and each time, he was simply captivated by the Avian. Everything was the same as before. Same line up, same punchlines, same lame-ass backstory, though he couldn’t fight that strange feeling about the ringmaster. There was just this sinister aura around him, like he was pulling all the strings in a major conspiracy. It didn’t help that now, the Avian was more willing to comply to his cues. _'John, what are you thinking? You’re just babbling now. Just watch the show.'_

As the man lifted into the air, the long pointed beak turned toward the boy, John developing a feeling that whatever was lurking behind the mask was staring straight at him, recognition. The very thought sent chills up his spine and sent his heart into a frenzy.  But that’s impossible. There’s no way he could have been recognized. He got out his sketchbook and quietly began sketching out the figure, glancing up with every scratch of the pencil. Curves here, end in a point, follow the curve. He was lost in his drawing until the lights cut out, signaling the end of the show. But rather than sneaking back to his house, he stayed off to the side, hiding amongst the ocean of people. Once they all dispersed, he waited about an hour waiting for all signs of movement to stop before sneaking around to the back of the tents, revealing a small cluster of caravan carts with a tent at the very end and animal cages along the outside, each one with their lights on. He took a deep breath and surveyed the area.

‘ _If I were a creepy ringmaster, where would I have a bird? In a cage, duh. But I don’t see cages around here that are holding birds… Maybe it’s in the back?”_ He slowly began his journey into the camp, his heart creeping up into his throat. In the first cart, three voices were rolling out an open door, John freezing to listen.

“—Oh, come on, Karkat it’s really not that bad of a burn,” a woman sighed, a hissing sound following afterwards.

“Speak for yourself, Harley,” a rough voice growled. “He actually likes you. He fucking hates me.”

“He doesn’t _hate you._ He just..”

“Just what? He views me as the fucking scum unceremoniously dumped on the world’s ass crack.”

“Now, now, Karbro,” a deeper voice chuckled. “You’re just upset because you can’t see this double rainbow over all o—“

“Gamzee, I swear to god if you start shooting out your ‘miracles’ speech again, I’m going to shove that fucking horn so far down your throat, it’ll come out your ass.”

“Calm down, Karkat,” Jade huffed. “He’s just trying to help.”

“If he really wanted to help, he’d come with me and get out of this Hell hole!”

“Then where would you go, huh? Just stroll into town with that—that—“

“Go on, Harley! Add fuel to the fire!”

“Come on, bro. Stop being such a—“

“Such a crab? Haha! Very funny, Gamzee. Your fucking act is hilarious, can’t you see me rolling on the ground, howling in laughter? You, sir, are the pinnacle of comedy! I’m fucking done here.” He stormed out of the cart, John jolting and sprinting to find somewhere to hide.

‘ _Holy shit that was close!”_ He thought, taking a breath of relief and laying his hand on the corner of the cart. That was, until he heard a low growl from behind him. His body froze over and his stomach dropped. He fearfully turned his head, a giant albino lioness staring at him hungrily before swiping at him, her claws just barely grazing is back.  He yelped and ran to the side, panting with his pulse being felt in his ears.

“Oh my god, this place is crazy,” he whispered, covering his mouth at the sound of another cart opening.

“Pounce, shh, shh,” a woman called softly, John recognizing her as one of the contortionists. “What’s wrong?” There was a slight roll in her R’s, a bright blue tail swishing back and forth between her legs. “Are you hungry, sweet one?” She smiled and the lioness purred as her head was scratched, kissing a very wet nose. She turned to get her a steak, hand feeding it.  John remained still as the woman disappeared, the lion finally getting off his case. He closed his eyes and crept away from the cart, each step managing to make at least one sound.

After having at least 3 heart attacks and having to hide from wandering circs, he finally made it to the tent, falling to the ground and letting out a huffed out laugh. Dang , this thing was huge. It seemed to go on forever. There was a large cage at the very end, a large tree-like statue off to the side. John stood up and passed the rows of food supplies and approached the cage with caution. One within a spitting distance, he heard a soft whimpering sound, the boy freezing. It sounded like.. Crying?

“P-Please don’t cry,” John murmured awkwardly, pulling out a small handkerchief from his pocket. There was a fast ruffle of feathers, the whole cage growing silent. At least until a male’s voice broke it.

“…M’not crying.”

“M-My name is John. John Egbert. Please don’t be af—“

“I know who you are,” the boy’s voice replied, completely deadpan. “You’ve been coming to the show for almost a month now.” ‘ _Oh god, does everyone know me?’_

“Here,” John murmured, sticking his arm through the bars and holding the handkerchief out. There was a brief silence as a clawed hand tentatively grabbed the piece of cloth, the boy finally in sight. He had silky blonde hair, bangs falling over his forehead in an angle. There were matching freckles just below fiery red eyes, his lips pressed in a thin line. His wings were folded against his back, shining in tHe couldn’t be much older than sixteen or seventeen.  John could see the faint shine of tear streaks trailing from his eyes,  though promptly being wiped away.

“Sooo, what’s your name?” John asked awkwardly as the boy retreated to one of the branches, wrapping his wings around his body like a shield.

“Dave.” He left it at that. ‘ _Dave, huh.’_

“Nice to meet you, Dave,” the boy smiled, keeping his hand out for a handshake. Dave raised his eyebrow and stared at the man on the outside, trying to figure him out.

“Why are you here anyway?”

“Well, I just. I thought your act”—Oh boy—“was simply fantastic, and I just had to see you for myself.”

“So you came to see the freaks up close,” Dave growled, shooting a glare.

“No no no!” John stammered, his pitch raising as his panic grew. “I mean, I don’t see you as a freak, just different! I just thought you were really lonely and _IwantedtobeyourfriendbecauseyoualwayslookedsosadintheshowandIthinkithassomethingtodowithScra_ —!” Dave vanished into thin air briefly before appearing right at the cage, eyes panicked as he grabbed the back of John’s head, hooking him in and covering his mouth.

“John. Shut the fuck up, or else you’ll wake up E—“ His voice was caught in his throat as a lumbering figure stood at the doorway of the tent, square glasses and defined muscles illuminated in the moonlight.

“Who are you?” John turned around a squeaked, staring like a terrified little kid.

“E-Equius, he just got lost,” Dave tried to cover for him when John couldn’t even form coherent thoughts. “I was just telling him to-“

“Quiet, Avian. I was not speaking to you.” Dave shrunk back into his cage, the fear evident in his eyes when he nodded silently.

“I-I-I was just leaving,” John whimpered, scampering away quickly. He broke right when he managed to duck under Equius’ arm, his pulse heavy in his ears. Just as the boy reached the tree line, the distinct sound of whip cracks followed behind him.

*****

“Jonathan Michael, where on _Earth_ have you been?” Uh oh. Caught. John shrunk against the old wooden door to his bedroom, avoiding the glare he was getting from his father. “Do you have _any_ idea how _worried_ I was? You could have been hurt, or taken, of even killed!”

“But I’m here and alive now,” John murmured, his nails digging into the wood slightly. “Can I just go to bed?”

“No, you may not. What were you doing out there at 2 in the morning?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to get out of the house for a little bit.” He lied through his teeth and looked up, watching his father gnaw at the end of his pipe, his Adam’s apple dipping.

“I don’t _ever_ doing this ever again. Do you hear me, Jonathan? There will be major consequences if you have the gall to disobey me.” John could only muster a small understanding nod as his father ran a shaking hand through his hair. He silently pulled out a match and lit his pipe, taking a few puffs to calm himself down.

“Good, now go on up to bed and get some sleep. It’s late enough as is, and we have a big day tomorrow.”

“What are we doing?” the boy asked das he began to climb up the Victorian style stairs up to his room, his hand resting on the railing.

“Your nana is coming to visit for a few days.”

“What?” he gasped, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Is she really well enough to travel? I mean, Jane said she was feeling under the weather for the longest time, and she nearly had a stroke traveling here last time..”

“Yes, but she finally went to see Dr. Maryam and is now on medication” He blew out smoke from the corner of his mouth in a heavy sigh. “Now hurry up and get to bed before I kick you to it.” He nodded and skipped every other step and turned to the left, glancing downstairs before slowly opening his bedroom door and slipping inside.  He folded his glasses and set them on the nightstand before sighing. He felt back onto the mattress in a huff, pulling the blanket up to his chin as the mattress conformed to his body. Without hesitation, he closed his eyes and drifted into a deep sleep, his dream filled with black feathers and ruby eyes.


	3. Nanna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, I didn't realize it was 2 years since I've updated this. So much shit has happened and I lost my computer, so for the longest time, I wasn't able to actually write anyways. So, luckily now that I have a new computer, I hope for more regular updates. Thankfully, I still remember where I wanted to take this.
> 
> And I want to say thank you for those of you still following this story. Thank you so much.

The next morning, John woke up with a fright, his father pounding heavily on the large wooden door calling , "John! Wake up, we're going to be late if you don't hurry." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and groaned softly.

 "Alright, alright, I'm coming. Give me, like , five minutes." Sleep was riddled in his voice as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, raven hair sticking out every which way. God, his head was pounding, throbbing along the back of his head and right behind his eyes. Blindly walking towards the closet, he scrounged up something to wear. Khaki pants, a simple button up white shirt and a blue tie should do it, right? He shuffled over to the built-in bathroom and stared at his blurred reflection, splashing some water onto his face in a hopeless attempt to wake himself up. After drying his face with a fluffy towel, he yawned and brushed his teeth lazily.

 Soon he was making his way back to the bed to push square glasses onto his face, the world around him suddenly crystal clear. Forget the hair. He snagged his paper boy hat and moved it onto his head, covering his unruly hair. He wiped the remainder of sleep from crystal eyes. then proceeded to meet his father downstairs.

 "Come, Johnathan, do try to look a bit more excited. Your grandmother should be arriving anytime now. We've gotta go pick her up from the dock. Apple?" The taller male offered a shining red apple, thoughts of those ruby eyes flashing back.

"Yeah. Thanks, Dad, but. Where will Nanna be staying? I mean. It's not like she can really get around much." 

"She'll be staying in the downstairs guest room," his father hummed, moving about the kitchen to clean up a little bit. "And she is more mobile than you think. Now, come on. Let's go." With that, the two left for the dock.

*****

 People bustled around John and his father as they looked around for the elderly woman. Most were carrying some kind of luggage, a few business man, vacationers, sailors. All kinds of faces and professions all packed together and attempting to  get to their final destinations.

 ' _Ugh, we're never going to find her,'_ John thought to himself as his father paused to stand on one of the wooden crates that was set there, waiting to be hauled to whatever cargo ship it was to be shipped on. After a few minutes, John saw his father's face light up. A hand waving up above his head.

 "I see her! She just got off the ship. Hurry along, Jonathan." The man jumped down and quickly weaved through the new people arriving to get to a sweet old woman with a rather large suitcase.  When they arrived, John smiled and felt his heart lighten up. Nanna always had a kind vibe about her, grey-blue eyes sparkling beneath a a bushel of snow white curls.

 Hi, Nanna!" John greeted, the woman holding her arms open for a hug.

 "Oh my goodness, you've gotten so big!" She gasped, lightly patting his back. She pulled back when she felt her suitcase being taken away from her.

 "Mother, please let me take this off your hands."

 "Oh, James, you know I can hold my suitcase just fine. I haven't kicked the bucket just yet." She sighed heavily and gave him a pout, James rolling his eyes.

"Yes, mother, but I do insist. You are our guest after all."

 " James, I swear, you're a bigger worrier than li'l ol' Janey. She practically begged me not to come, but I just had to come and see my favorite grandson." With that, she gave John a little pinch on the cheek, John feeling his face flush in embarrassment. Gently, he guided her hand down to hold onto his arm, like a prince would treat a queen.

 "Mother--"

 "Oh hush up, James. Or am I going to have to sew your lips together?" John couldn't help but giggle as the man let out an exasperated sigh. He led them to the car, John helping the woman into the front seat before hopping into the backseat. John was rather quiet on the ride home, daydreaming as he gazed out the window. The blurred colors lulled the boy to sleep, drifting off to the sound of playful banter in the front seat.

*****

_"Keep your head down, stay silent," a deep baritone voice ordered quietly, bright orange eyes wide as he pressed a taloned finger to his lips. "They mustn't find you. Don't come out until I say, okay?"_  

_"B-But bro," the younger blonde whimpered, grabbing onto the male's shirt. Fear was evident in his voice, tugging on the white wife beater. "Bro, what if they hurt you?"_  

_"Trust me, li'l man, they won't hurt me. I'm stronger than them. I'm just gonna steer them away from here. If they find us, we'll have to leave home. And you don't want that, do you?" He was answered with a slow shake of they younger blonde's head. He offered a gentle smiled before nuzzling him, a soft, comforting purr erupting from his throat. "Don't worry, I'll come back for you, Dave." Soon, the two avians perked up at the sound of gruff voices, the older taking flight. The voices began shouting, running past the child's hiding spot. As they grew farther away, their voices trailed off._  

_"POW!" The loud crack of the gun split the air in two._  

******

"Jonathan! We're home!" John slowly opened his eyes, James looking back at him. Just like he said, they were currently parked in their driveway, Nanna already starting to get out.

 "Mother, please let m--"

 "Pish posh, James, let a woman walk for once." John sighed and grabbed the suitcase, stepping out of the car. He had a feeling this was going to be a rather long week.


	4. Letters on the wooden table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time, my head's been kinda foggy but I've added a bit of mystery and backstory to this chapter.  
> Thank you guys so much for sticking with me. and I swear, things will get a bit better and start picking up after this.

John sighed as he pulled the suit case into the large house, James leading his mother over to the couch. She sniffed the air and slowly sat down, a soft noise of discomfort leaving her as her joints popped quietly.

 

"James, it smells… Rather bland in here," she commented softly, giving him a disapproving look. 

 

"Well, I've been so busy trying to get ready for you that making sweets completely slipped my mind," he replied, a bit more relaxed that the older woman was finally off her feet. He was constantly worried about her health, especially when she had her accident a while back. He nearly had a heart attack when he found out that she had been admitted into a hospital for a small concussion.

 

"And you call yourself my son," she teased light heartedly, John slipping into her bedroom. It was rather spacious room, having a large bed decorated in blue velvet curtains and sky blue sheets. The old oaken desk in the corner had a few papers on it, handwritten letters that his father had written it seemed. He walked over after setting the trunk down at the edge of the bed and tilted his head a bit, picking up one of the sheets and reading a portion of it. The letter was written in precise cursive, every letter flowing together like ribbon, filling up the majority of the page before his father's signature decorated the bottom.

 

" _He's grown up so much, you know, and he looks so much like you now. The resemblance is remarkable, my love. I just wish you were here to see him, for I just know that you would be just as proud of him as I. I wish you could see how much of a gentleman he has grown to be."_ He noticed a few stains on the corner of the paper, running his finger over the droplets. Were. Were these tears? Who was this written to? John wasn't aware that his father had any kind of relationship outside of the house besides his work friends. So, who was this letter addressed to? He turned the paper around and skimmed it, trying to spot a name of the recipient, his search coming up blank. A soft exhale left him as he gently placed the paper back down, finger tips lingering on the desk before he pulled away. It was unlike his father to keep secrets.. But really.. Who was he to judge? He looked around the room once more before returning to the living room.

 

"John, dearie, please tell your father that he's a worry wart," Nanna called out as James fluffed a pillow under her feet.

 

"Don't you dar--"

 

"Dad, you're a worrywart." This caused the woman to laugh, James rolling his eyes before a little smile appeared on his face. Just seeing his father smile after what he read, brought a smile onto John's face, walking over to sit next to his Nanna. She smiled and reached over to take his hand, winking at him playfully. "I always knew you were my favorite grandson."

 

"Nanna, I'm your only grandson," he chuckled squeezing the hand lightly.

 

"Well then, I guess you won't have to worry about any competition then." The two shared a laugh as James walked into the kitchen, the smell of sugar cookies filling the house soon after.

 

*****

 

_Books. Books. All around him were stacks of books, towering over him menacingly. Shadows streaked across the floor  in a criss-cross pattern, etching a checkerboard pattern onto the solid white tile. When John tried to call out to someone, his voice failed, nothing but a puft of air. Panic rose in his chest, using all of his might to scream, to cry, to make any sort of noise. But alas, his efforts remained unfruitful. A black feather floated down in front of him, catching the boy's attention from the endless landscape. Then another… And another… They formed a path, John hesitantly following them. Soon the light around him dropped to blood red._

 

_Dread filled the boy's senses as he adventured forward, continually following the trail no matter how far it led him. There was something wrong here, he could sense it. But before he had a moment to dwell on the feeling, he noticed a figure ahead of him, a body sprawled out on the floor. His eyes shot wide as he ran forward hoping whoever it was could explain everything. He ran forward, waving his hand before freezing. This boy… Black hair… Blue vest… This boy. Was.. HIM. He stumbled back as the body twitched, limbs cracking as it twisted abnormally to face him. Blood trickled from Jo-- no, the creature's lips, eyes blown wide and encompassed by dark rings. Bullet wounds and slash marks decorated the front of his body, nails digging into the floor. ]_

 

_John tried to scream, shifting backwards to put as much difference between him and the look alike._

 

_"…Les Ailes de la Liberté_ ," it groaned, it's voice broken and airy, barely above a whisper. " _Les Ailes de la Liberté… Les Ailes de la Liberté!" It crawled towards him, now shouting the phrase. John, so close to crying, tried to rush to get on his feet, black feathers now raining from the sky in a constant downpour, littering the ground. Just as he managed to get on his feet and begin running past a column of books, he felt a hand wrap around his ankles, looking down as the broken face of himself stared up at him, laying on it's belly as more blood washed past his lips._

 

" _Les Ailes de la Liberté_ …" _With that, a flash of green lightning illuminated the sky with a might crack, the earth around him shaking with the sheer force of the blast. The books began to wobble violently, John letting out a scream as thousands of books came crashing down over him._


	5. White feathers and Saphhire Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Throwback to what happened to Dave after John vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's been a while! Thank you so much for those of you keeping up with this, but it's been hectic between trying to pay bills and maintain a job since all jobs available right now are seasonal. But at least I got this chapter out. Also! Entering one of my favorite crack ships a little bit in here!

Pain. All he felt was pain searing under his skin and through his bones, his legs tucked to his chest protectively. Raven wings coiled tightly around him, Dave panted against the bloodied floor, feeling Equius tower over him in fear of more whippings. He had a feeling that that blue eyed boy meant trouble, but he was different than all the others. He. He seemed kind and gentle, like he actually cared. It was a lucky break for him really, considering all the shit the universe had put him through

 

"I hope this lesson sticks with you avian," the equine master murmured threateningly, his voice cool and collected. "We wouldn't want to have to clip those wings of yours. But, as you know… I will have to talk to the ringmaster about this little… _incident_." Dave shuddered before taking a shaking breath, unraveling  himself before nodding and slowly making his way towards his perch once more when the cage was locked once more.

 

"Fine," he muttered as he settled in. His joints popped and his muscles screamed as he leaned most of his weight onto the wood. Whether or not it was real, Dirk didn't really care, he was just happy that it was there to relieve some of the pressure on his ankles. "Not like there's much I can really do about it. It's a literal lose-lose situation for me." He saw the man's shoulder's tense, the grip on the whip tightening.

 

"I would advise you to watch your tongue before you throw fuel into the fire." With that said, he turned and left Dave there to 'reflect' on his actions. With a sigh, Dave carefully began smoothing out this feathers, wincing when they moved and tugged the wrong way. He refused his urge to cry when he stared at the angry lines and cuts on his body, blood matting up his feathers and clothes. He wasn't going to cry, to submit to this pain.

 

"..Damn kid," he hissed under his breath, seeing the human's face in his thoughts. This was all his fault, this wouldn't have happened if that kid hadn't have snuck in. Anger bubbled under his skin, hatred pulling at him while his hands roamed about. He had to do everything in his power to keep calm at this point, the urge to scream and cuss rising to the point of making his body practically vibrate. Eventually, he jumped down and paced his cage despite the disapproval of his joints. He had to get this energy out of him, so many emotions crashing through him. Why did the universe hate him so much? Why couldn't he just be back at home with Bro? Why couldn't he have just been human?

 

' _Bro, what would you do if you were here?_ ' He sighed and felt tears prick his eyes, the gunshot that rung through the forest now ringing through his ears. He collapsed once more, his stomach churning and the taste of bile filling his mouth. He lurched forward and vomited a bit, tears sliding down his cheeks to mix through the yellowish puddle on the ground. His lips quivered, heaving once more but nothing coming out. Everything was too much for him, the confined space, the loneliness, everything pressed on his shoulders and pinned him to the ground. It shattered his heart and his will all at once, but like a a candle in the dark, a warm hand gently pressed on his head.

 

"Bro?" he gasped as he turned around, expecting to see blond hair and those warm amber eyes. Instead, he saw shoulder length black hair and forest green eyes from beyond the bars. "Oh.. It's. It's you, Nepeta.."

 

"Hey," she answered, an apologetic look on her face. There was a wash bucket and a few rags in her hand as well as a tub of ointment. "Are you okay? I saw Equius was in here earlier…" He nodded, her lips falling to a frown when she saw all of his injuries. Her eyes sharpened as she scanned each injury, standing up to fill the wash bucket with fresh water. She dampened the rags before gently cleaning each wound. It stung, but Dave made sure to remain as still as he could. She was one of the few people he trusted here, the girl showing him nothing but kindness from the very first time they met.

 

"He came in when he heard John in here, chased him off, then proceeded to do all this shit to me." Nepeta tilted her head quizzically, her hand pausing to process what he had said.

 

"John? Who's that?"

 

"Some kid who's been coming to the shows for weeks now. He decided to sneak through camp to see me. He seemed nice but…" Nepeta smiled softly and continued to clean, moving to his wings after ringing out the towel.

 

"Really? Did he say why he wanted to?"

 

"He said that he wanted to be my friend," he sighed, muscles relaxing as Nepeta carefully preened him, fingers carefully setting the feathers back to their original position. "But it's hard to really believe that at this point. Humans are all the same.." She chuckled softly, Dave's eyebrows furrowing a bit. "What's so funny?"

 

"Nothing nothing, I just think it's kind of adorable. I mean think about it. A boy risks life and limb to visit a person he had never even met before to become his friend. I may not know much outside this life I have, but I can tell you that that boy has a good heart." He shook his head and bit his lip.

 

"Nepeta, this whole situation is because of him. I wouldn't be hurting like this if it weren't for him and other humans. I would be at home with Bro, and we'd be happy.. He'd be alive, Nepeta… Bro.. Bro would have been alive…" He felt a lump form in his throat, Nepeta pulling away slightly before grabbing the tub of ointment. It soothed his pain almost instantly, sealing the cuts and disinfecting them.

 

"Dave," she began softly, her voice dropping to an almost motherly tone. "Not all humans are the same, I hope you realize that. I mean, I'm a human, right? And yet here I am, cleaning you up and giving you medicine. I'm not a horrible person, am I?" She received a small shake to the head. "That's the point I'm trying to make. Not all humans are going to be against you, to hurt you and the things you love. Others are different, and I strongly believe this John character is one of those exceptions. I'm sure he's going to come back for you and you should give him a chance." He sighed and nodded, feeling at ease as her slender arms wrap carefully around his shoulders. He pulled away slightly to turn toward her, a gentle smile on his face.

 

"Alright," he nodded, pulling her into a proper hug through the bars. The physical reassurance was nice, her touch soothing all the uneasiness in his system. "I'll… I'll try my best." She smiled and nodded, ruffling his hair slightly.

 

"Good, I'll sneak some treats for you tomorrow night, I promise, alright? And remember that I'll always be here for you, no matter what." With that, she slipped out of the tent, waving to him before vanishing to go back to her bed. Even with the tent empty once more, Dave felt comforted by the visit. He could still feel her presence and love around him like a fuzzy blanket, finding the strength to climb up to the perch and close his eyes. He fell into one of the best sleeps of his life, dreaming of white feathers and sapphire eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I really like Nepeta and Dave. i feel like they would be super cute together and mess around. And definitely a lot of cuddling.


End file.
